Royals Viitoare
by PoppyStars
Summary: A look 500 years after Seras was made, to the Vampire court of the King and Queen. A group from the Vatican arrives to attend the Queen's birthday party, amidst uneasy peace between humans and vampires. This is a study of the future of Alucard and Seras, as well as a glimpse of the human reaction to vampires gaining power. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Arrival

It was the group's first glance upon the castle of the King of the Undead, and the silence that enveloped them was stifling. The building was set onto a cliff that overlooked the ocean, waves crashing against the rocks and leaving wake that looked like white lace against the dark blue of the water. Michael's fingers twitched for the holy sword in his suitcase- just to feel the weight of the blade would be a welcome comfort at the sight of the opposing palace. The drawbridge, a construction of wood and ironwork that lowered via chains as thick as a man's neck, was down in anticipation of guests. There were sentries on the ramparts, with guns clutched in hand and impassive expressions on their faces as they looked down at the small group. The priest tried to give a friendly wave at the humans- it was daylight, the vampires would be asleep- but he was met with nothing but blank stares. Evidently the King's guards were trained well. He felt sorry for these humans, brainwashed and forced to work for the undead. It was unthinkable that any human in their right mind would do so willingly.

The Vatican's group finally regained their voices and Mike could hear the murmur of Sister Bethany behind him. She remarked on the fact that there was no water in the moat below the drawbridge and the leader of the expedition, Father Paolo, chided her thoughtlessness.

"Vampires cannot cross running water unaided, unless they are old. It is so the weaker, newer monsters may enter the castle without their masters having to carry them."

Sleek cars were visible in the courtyard as they entered and Michael's instincts kicked into alert. Most of them had tinted windows, preventing light from reaching the occupants within, a sure sign of vampire ownership. Humans didn't use tinted windows anymore- after one too many mortals had gotten the idea to impersonate a vampire by driving with blackened windows and crashed as a result, the practice had fallen out of use. The priest was certain most of those crashes hadn't been accidents; the monsters did so hate it when a mortal dared to mimic them.

It had almost been 500 years since the No-Life King Alucard and the No-Life Queen Seras had begun their reign. It had been almost 250 since the vampires made themselves known to the world's populace. Michael had heard stories of the days before they were known, when the beasts didn't walk down the night streets with fangs bared and heads held high. When restaurants didn't have special night seating for the monsters to drink blood in public, when vampire characters on television shows weren't played by actors with real ivory fangs and glowing red eyes, when killing a vampire was still something to be congratulated.

The humans of the world existed in an uneasy truce with the vampires. It was known that they drank from humans frequently, in dark corners and alleys where no one could hear their victims scream, but there was nary a vampire un-alive that would admit to such. In public they drank only from the willing; smiling, happy-eyed humans who were bitten gently and then led away by the grateful vampire to rest and drink water by the gallon.

The Vatican's newer recruits often wondered why the Royals and their court kept up appearances. They were far stronger than any of the human governments, though it was only the Vatican that knew the true extent of that strength, and if they'd wanted, they could easily topple the resistance that human armies would put up in front of them.

Michael had the same question, though for a different reason. The newer recruits asked it eagerly, bored as they were of patrolling cities and catching newer vampires who broke the rules. They wanted to fight the nobles of the court, the ones with the powers they'd heard so much about- form-changing, regeneration, etc. Confident in their abilities, they laughed in the hallways of Section XIII like packs of hyenas ready to go hunting. Each of them dreamed of thrusting their holy blade into the chest of the vampire king and watching him turn to dust before their eyes. Michael knew that something so simple wouldn't kill Alucard. He thought of the day the King would grow tire of playing the coexistence charade and the thought made him shiver. The Vatican would take him down eventually- they _had _to- but who knew how many lives would be lost in the process? And then there was the matter of the Queen… If they took down one without the other, the humans would be driven to the edge of extinction.

Filthy monsters. All they knew was blood and destruction.

A blonde, barefoot maid with a red dragon broach pinned to her chest greeted them at the great doorway to the castle. Mike eyed the jewelry with distaste, automatically searching the woman's eyes for the glazed look of a hypnotized human. When he didn't find it, he scowled.

Undisturbed by the face he was making, she bowed and smiled widely at them, signaling for the guards to open the heavy wooden door.

"Please forgive that my masters not here to greet you, but the sunlight is strong and they are asleep for the day," The blonde spoke over her shoulder as she led them into the great hall, and Michael could hear the noises that the newer recruits made behind his back. It was impressive, the first time you saw it: red and black banners with curling dragons were strung everywhere, blocking direct sunlight from the few high windows and casting a reddish glow over the room. Candleholders stood in every available space, though he knew for a fact the castle had it's own electric generators, and the flickering light they cast over the shadows was hardly enough to see by. Humans hurried by, some with arms full of laundry and some with empty arms but determined expressions, rushing off to whatever task they'd been given. All the humans were barefoot, he noted with mild surprise. Long carpets peppered the space, seemingly thrown about at random to hide the cold stone floor from the bare feet of the human servants.

They were led through a small archway and to a set of stone stairs that corkscrewed around and hid the top from view. The maid began to climb and it was clear she'd taken the trip many times before, with the way she sprung up the narrow steps without touching the handrail. Michael allowed Father Paolo to walk ahead of him, with a bow of the head that would have looked like courtesy to the newer members of their group. In truth, he was worried the older man would slip and wanted to be there to brace him before he went tumbling back down to the ground floor. Age was a cruel thing.

Five humans walked up the stairs, not counting the maid who practically ran ahead of them. Father Paolo and Father Michael had the most experience with vampires- Michael was the newest regenerator, after all. Sister Bethany and Sister Eliza were less experienced, but Paolo had hoped to train them here in the castle- plus, they were well-versed in etiquette, something that would be needed at the ball tomorrow night. The last member was a smiling young man with golden hair and green eyes that missed nothing. He would not be returning to the Vatican with them at the end of the trip and Michael felt sorry for and envious of him in equal parts. Eleazar had been given the task of being an ambassador to the vampire court- The Church needed to keep up appearances just as much as the royal couple, it seemed.

The King and Queen had too many loyal servants working in the media, who took just about every piece of news involving a vampire being slain by Section XIII, and turned it into a story of brutality on the part of the Vatican. Vampire sympathizers were growing vocal against the Church and since they couldn't exactly stop killing vampires, they opted for the next best thing. If they had the appearance of reaching out to the court, it would get many of the more vocal sympathizers off their back- and give them a nice little source for information about the court's agenda. Michael had been considered for the job, but he'd begged them to give it to someone else: he needed to be free to move around the country, and though he'd have liked the chance to stake each and every noble vampire as they lay in their coffins, the thought of having to be around bloodsuckers all the time was repulsive in the extreme.

Eleazar would do a good job, he hoped. They couldn't afford any slip-ups where the Vampire King or Queen could see them.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they were led down a hallway and to a set of doors. The maid opened one with a flourish and inside, two double beds with thick down pillows waited.

"This room is for the ladies," She said, gesturing to the sisters. Sister Eliza thanked the blonde in a quiet voice and walked inside, duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Bethany waited to see where the men's room was going to be before she vanished into the confines of the room as well, to do whatever it was that women did when men could not see them.

Michael and Paolo were given the chambers directly across from their room, and they nodded their thanks to the maid, who led Eleazar away and through a different door. His quarters would be more permanent, after all.

The regenerator threw himself down onto the one of the beds and allowed his suitcase to fall on the floor with a clang. They'd been informed before the woman left that dinner was to be at 9'o clock, late in the evening for Michael's tastes. But he supposed the vampires would want to get work done before sitting down with their guests- if they were even going to be seeing them that night at all. Perhaps the King and Queen wouldn't want to deal with the Vatican at all and they'd be foisted off onto a lesser noble who would act as though they'd been stuck with a wad of pre-chewed gum in their hands.

It didn't really matter which happened. Tonight's dinner was only a warm up, a prelude of things to come. The queen's birthday party tomorrow night was the real show.

500 years of being a monster. It was hardly something to celebrate in Michael's mind, but he supposed the royal couple didn't share his feelings.

xXxXxXx

A.N: Thanks for reading- this is my first fanfiction for Hellsing. I wanted to take a look at what I thought vampire court would be like way in the future, after Alucard is freed. All the events of the manga have taken place. And of course, AxS is dear to my heart, so we've got the reigning queen Seras. Sorry they weren't actually in this chapter, but they'll be in the next one.

So… Yeah. Let me know what you think! Thanks a lot.


	2. Dinner Pt 1

Drumming his fingers on the smooth wood of the table, the young priest cast his glance over the other dinner guests, the ones who had not arrived with the Vatican's group. They all appeared as bored as he was, chatting quietly among themselves as they waited for the hosts of the evening, but Michael's trained eye knew better. He caught the tension in supposedly relaxed backs and there was more than one glint of metal in the soft light, alerting him to a sword or gun concealed beneath the extravagant evening dress. (Though he was in no position to pass judgment, given the sword strapped beneath his robe that pressed against his back tightly.) At least all the rest of the people seated around the table were human, though the two empty chairs at the head of the table assured him that it would not remain that way for long.

Reaching for the cup of water placed in front of him, he knocked it back as though it were a drink, in a show of skill that had Father Paolo chuckling behind his sleeve. Michael regularly drank holy water- washed his clothes in it, in fact- and the taste of regular water had become distasteful. It lacked a certain punch: there was no thrum of power, no warmth of faith. The change turned his lips down and he found himself frowning at the glass, turning it over in one large hand. He'd brought plenty of holy water with them; he should have thought to bring a few of the vials down to dinner.

He'd even had them out on the bed when the maid came in to fetch them for dinner. Vampire-proofing the room they were staying in had taken longer than he'd thought it would, with those unreachable windows, and as she opened the wooden door with a soft knock and an "I've come to fetch you for dinner," they were still… in the process. He'd had to scale his way up the wall, with the armchair nearby in case he lost his balance, and listened to Father Paolo offering advice for which stones looked good for him to climb on. Eventually he'd managed to pour a few vials of the blessed liquid on the stones and hung cloves of garlic on the windowsill, but they'd turned to see the maid staring as if they'd been caught fucking on the bed.

Looking to his right, Michael stared at the great wooden door to the dining hall. Everything in this place was wood- hadn't the monsters ever heard of anything else? Every door in the place could be slammed with a resounding thud and every bit of furniture would give you splinters if you rested your hand on it for too long. The priest didn't envy Eleazar, having to live in this dreary place until the Vatican called him back or the vampires kicked him out. Michael was about to remark as such to the young man, but before he could make a sound there was a terrible silence that fell over the stifled the syllables on the priest's tongue and his senses kicked into high alert as the oaken doors to the banquet table swung open to admit the No-Life King and Queen.

The king himself was the same as ever, with a pitch-black suit that looked like liquid ink and a blood red tie that appeared as though it had been poured out of some unfortunate's throat and made to take the shape of evening attire. A dragon pin made from gold winked on his chest, snorting fire in the form of rubies- ostentatious and unnecessary, in the priest's mind. Alucard grinned at his guests and whispered something to the lady on his arm, who cast a glance around the room and murmured back to him. Both laughed and Michael felt his ire rising already, without them even mentioning a word to the assembled humans. It didn't help that he couldn't hear what they had said, even with his superior senses. Bloody fucking monsters.

"Welcome to our home," The queen announced in a clear voice and his attention shifted to her. Queen Seras wasn't wearing a dress, he noted with mild surprise- most ancient vampires were so old-fashioned in their worldviews and he couldn't imagine the king allowing his wife to wear anything but a corset and ball gown. A pretty red blouse complemented her glowing red irises and she'd followed her husband's color scheme, wearing pants as black as the sky. Her necklace was a curled dragon that wrapped around her throat, with rubies for eyes and small scales exquisitely carved into the metal. No crowns for either of them, of course. _So_ old fashioned.

The guests had risen when the royal couple walked into the room and they remained standing as the two made their way to the chairs at the head of the table, shaking hands with each human along the way. Tense smiles rested on every face but those of the monarchs, who glided through the room as though it were filled with adoring human admirers and not people armed to the teeth with weapons to kill their kind. Their security was understandable- no one in their right mind would attack either of them as long as their mate was near, and certainly not in the castle. It would be a wish for torture and eventually death, though Michael had heard tales of prisoners the king especially hated, who were made into vampires simply so he could continue to torture them past the limits of the human body.

Coming to a stop in front of the Vatican's party, the queen reached out to Father Paolo with an expression of surprise and happiness.

"Paolo, you didn't tell us you were coming!" She hugged the older man tightly, ample bosom pushing against the priest's chest. Michael cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the queen touching his commander so familiarly. The king winked at him and the priest suddenly felt the need for a long shower, disgusted with the company.

"I thought it to be a surprise," The man said, stepping back smoothly out of Seras' arms. "As Michael was sent, it was deemed proper that I should go too. All rather last minute." He indicated the regenerator with a flick of his wrist and the queen turned her red eyes on him, looking him up and down.

Was that a hint of unease the priest could see in those red eyes?

"Ah, you're the new regenerator, right?" She questioned, and stuck her pale hand out.

"Yes. That's me." He forced himself to take it, careful that the trailing sleeves of his robe didn't touch her skin. Once a vampire touched something, it would take weeks for him to get out the scent.

Her fingers were cold and he let go as soon as was proper, hiding his hand behind his back to wipe the feeling of monster away. Of course she noticed but she let it go without a word, stepping back to her husband's side. If Michael hadn't known better, he'd have said he made the Vampire Queen uncomfortable. Experimentally, he grinned at her, making sure to stretch the expression as wide as it could go. Seras turned her head away quickly at the sight and moved to greet the sisters- it was the King who reacted, a low hiss escaping from between clenched teeth.

The priest turned the expression on him instead, green eyes meeting fiery red, and they remained in a kind of stasis for a time, neither side willing to back down.

This was the enemy and Michael would not blink first.

It was Paolo who eventually intervened, smoothly stepping into their line of sight to make polite chatter with the King. Michael turned away from the monarchs and sat down again at the table, decorum be damned. He was meant to kill these monsters, not make conversation with them.

When the pleasantries were out of the way, the royal couple advanced to the head of the table. Alucard pulled the queen's chair out for her and she sat with a smile, looking down the table to the assembled guests. He sat smoothly himself and everyone else took their seats once the monarchs were settled, leaving a sour taste in Michael's mouth. Every one of the humans here was meant to be a vampire hunter and instead they fluttered about these vampires, playing their game as if they had no choice.

He tried to ignore the voice in his head that explained that maybe they didn't.

"Thank you for coming," The king boomed, that sick grin reappearing on his face as he spoke. "My wife and I appreciate you taking the time to visit us on this joyous occasion. I understand many of you have had reservations about coming and I can assure you…" He trailed off, glancing down to Seras. The monster had the gall to wink at the draculina before he looked up again, making no attempt to hide the exchange or explain away the pause. "There is no need to feel uneasy. You are guests here and no vampire shall touch you while you are under my protection." The implied threat in his words had the humans at the table murmuring- if the king withdrew his protection, they were sitting ducks in the castle.

"Once again… Welcome to our house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring."

The quotation from Dracula had Michael remembering how Johnathan Harker's visit ended, and he glanced over at Father Paolo with a raised eyebrow. The royal couple was planning something, and they were taking absolutely no pains to hide it from the humans.

With an unseen signal from the king, human servers entered the room with plates of steaming soup. They set one in front of each of the guests and Michael peered into his bowl questioningly, only to find that the monsters had a sense of humor. It was tomato soup- at least, he very dearly hoped it was- and the soup was indistinguishable from the red dishes set in front of the King and Queen. As they tucked into their meal with gusto, the humans sat, silently daring each other to try the dish first. It was impolite, but the vampire hunters could care less at that moment.

The queen looked up and frowned, as though the distrust of her guests had hurt her. Michael could see the barely concealed mirth behind her eyes. He'd heard that the queen was a stabilizing influence on the king, that she was the one who kept him from over-running the world with darkness and throwing every human into a cattle pen. The Vatican had suspected she was the sanity to his madness, even allowing her to treat peacefully with some of the senior officials.

It appeared those conjectures were wrong, though. No-Life Queen Seras was just much better at hiding it then her husband.

"Do you all truly think we would try and trick you?" She questioned, hurt layering every syllable. The king at her side smiled into his spoon, slurping blood as though to puncture her statement with the sound. Seras looked down with reproach in her eyes and Alucard set the spoon down, holding up empty hands in apology.

Perhaps they wanted to play up the divide between them- perhaps they wanted the image of a small woman who could speak sanity to her powerful husband, and a king who casually drank blood and smirked with fire in his eyes. It was smart. The queen would be let into the world's political circles as a representative of her husband, pleading for leaders who heard stories of the king's cruelty to not believe the lies. Seras was a familiar figure to everyone in the world- tabloids wrote stories of the vampire queen's movements, and desperately tried to uncover who she'd been in life. Children lived their whole lives with the familiar face of the Vampire queen on the news, even in countries where the vampires had minimal influence. She was the face of the Vampire monarchy, something soft and sweet for the people to sympathize with.

Very smart.

Michael came to the conclusion that the queen was just as bad as her husband, even as the human guests around him took their spoons and slowly raised the first bite of tomato soup to their lips. Cautious expressions changed into relieved ones and they began to tuck into their soup with gusto. Michael looked down at his own plate and pushed it aside, unwilling to eat anything that looked so much like what the monarchs had.

The king looked up and caught his eye, glancing down to the untouched tomato soup with a raised eyebrow before smirking. Once again, the monarch whispered something into his queen's ear and she looked up to see Michael's food untouched. With a concerned frown that Michael was almost certain was actually a well-disguised smile, Seras waved a servant over to the regenerator.

"Her majesty would like to know if there is anything else the kitchen may make for you," The man said lowly and the priest grunted.

"A loaf of bread, please. Any kind." It was hard to sneak anything red onto a loaf of bread.

xXxXxXx

A.N.

I had to break this chapter up into two parts, or else it would have been ridiculously long. I think i'm going to update every Friday from now on.

Let me know how you think I did with A and S! Or about anything else with the story. Thanks very much for reading.

-Poppy


	3. Dinner Pt 2

When Michael's bread arrived, it was pumpernickel. He stared at the dark loaf sitting innocently on his plate beside a little cup of butter- it was black, with white seeds spread over the top. It suited the castle he was in. At least he'd have been able to tell if the bread was soggy.

He ate sparingly, eyes scanning the room out of habit. Delegations from all the major players in the vampire hunting game sat around the table, chatting quietly to themselves. The Chinese, the Americans, the Brazilians… He recognized the symbols worn on coat sleeves or, in one young man's case, shaved into his hair.

No one really talked outside of his or her group and certainly nothing was said to the hosts at the head of the table, who chatted to each other in light, pleasant voices. It was all white noise to the regenerator, who studied what he could see of the weaponry in the room. Blessed silver crosses hung around almost every neck, a staple of a vampire hunter's wardrobe. All assembled had light clothes on, easy to move in if they were attacked, and the women's hair was up and out of their faces. Michael didn't really approve of women going onto the battlefield, distractions that they were, but at least these ladies had made an effort to not be a hindrance.

Well aware that his views were offensive to the fairer sex, he shook them out of his mind quickly and moved on. He wished he could have touched his sword, but that would have required reaching down the back of his robe, something that would seem very odd to those around him. Michael forced himself to sit still and ripped off another chunk of bread as a distraction, swirling it around in the butter. Paolo caught the vicious way he split the bread and gave the younger man a smile that was meant to be soothing, pushing back from his empty soup bowl with a satisfied air. Like a child, the regenerator pulled a hideous grimace and the old priest laughed quietly, one hand over his mouth to cover the sound.

The sound of another laugh caught their ears and both Italians turned to see the queen giggling at them, eyes trained on the regenerator. He quickly returned his face to its neutral expression and refocused on the water in front of him, embarrassment seeping through his body. This was no time to be acting the part of the buffoon and he knew that.

The very air was stifling as he felt the woman's gaze on him. She didn't seem to like him much, but apparently she had no problem with laughing at him. Michael desperately wished he could leave the table and go find somewhere quiet to pass the evening, away from the monsters he couldn't kill and the forced polite conversation.

Wait. Why couldn't he?

Before he had time to think about what he was doing, the Regenerator pushed back from the table and stood to his full height, towering over the seated humans on either side of him. Without looking at Father Paolo, he muttered a gruff 'thank-you' somewhere in the direction of the royals and headed toward the door, long legs eating up the ground before anyone managed to say a word.

A satisfied smile decorated his face as the sound of the dining room doors closing boomed around the empty hall. It was darker in here than it had been before but his eyes quickly adjusted, glancing around for any threat lurking in the shadows. When he found no crouching vampire ready to spring, he set off in what he thought was the direction of their rooms, ready to wait for Father Paolo's lecture from the comfort of his own bed. At least it hadn't been Eleazar who stormed from the room- that would have been a little harder to explain to the King and Queen.

Michael's boots made no noise as he walked along the wooden floor, peering into every deep shadow he passed. He didn't trust the king's decree of safety while they were under his roof; all it took was one hungry little vampire to hear his pulse and the edict would fly from one ear and out the other. As far as he knew, there was no force on earth that could dissuade a vampire from the prey it wanted, save shoving a stake through their heart. As powerful as the king might have been, he didn't think it would be good to let his guard down. On a whim, he extracted the sword from its sheath at his back and let it hang loosely in his hand as he walked, a sign to any hungry monster in the dark that he was ready and willing to kill.

It was a few more minutes before he realized he was lost. The man was sure he'd headed down the same hallway the maid had led them up, but there was no precarious spiral staircase that awaited him.

"Aw fuck…" The regenerator muttered and turned to look behind him, trying to gauge how far he'd walked. If he went back, he ran the risk of walking right into the dining room again, a blow he didn't think his pride would survive. Green eyes swept back down the corridor and he resumed walking in his original direction, deciding to give this way a chance. Perhaps he'd stumble across the servants or something- one of them could lead him back to his room. This passage was small enough to be a servant's walkway- the ceiling was low and the floor was uneven. Michael had to be very careful not to scrape the top of his head against the rough stone.

Eventually, he caught the glow of light coming from ahead of him, and the man quickened his pace. A door was set into the wall and a warm glow spilled out from underneath it, lighting the ground around his feet. The passageway continued beyond this door but he stopped at it, reasoning that the humans would be found behind the doorway with the most light. Feeling more than a little foolish, he gave a knock at the door before he pushed it open, just in case it was a girl's sleeping quarters or something like that.

Light flooded his vision and it took his eyes a moment to adjust, used as he was to the almost absolute darkness of the hallway. But it wasn't a servant's quarters he saw: Michael had found the library.

It was a cavernous room, with wall-to-floor bookshelves that he'd thought only existed in stories. Lamps could be found on every surface, giving the space warmth that he'd seen nowhere else in the palace. Armchairs waited close to some of the lighting fixtures and he could even see some of those book trollies, waiting to carry volumes for the eager reader. Strolling closer to the shelves, he tried to study some of the titles, but found they were in Romani, a language he couldn't read with any sort of proficiency. Speak? Yes. Read? Not a chance.

The Regenerator hadn't really pegged the King as the type to enjoy books to this extent, but it was clear that a lot of money and attention had been spent on this room.

This wasn't what he had been trying to find, but it was quite the interesting discovery nonetheless. On a whim, he decided to see if he could find what books they had on the Vatican before he left to search for his room. Perhaps there'd be a large black book of secret plans- Michael chuckled to himself as he walked along the long shelf, searching for any sign to give him an idea of where what sections would be. Hopefully the entire collection wasn't in Romani.

What he found instead were two vampires sitting in one of the armchairs together, a book held in front of them. In an instant he was on alert, though neither of them showed any signs of noticing the intruder to their private little bubble, and he crept around them silently, sword held tight in one hand. The regenerator realized it would have looked like he was preparing to attack, if one of the creatures happened to glance up from the volume, but he didn't care. He'd allowed himself to relax in the bright light, and the man mentally chastised himself for letting his guard down.

Moving until the pair was out of sight, he leaned against a bookshelf with a sigh. Was he going to wander around until he found some sort of information desk? The idea of the vampire king having a help desk in his library was laughable. He could always head back to the passage he'd come in through, and see where it would end up. With any luck, it'd bring him to the hallway of human rooms.

Also pretty laughable- his luck wasn't that good.

The Regenerator sensed the vampires surrounding him before he actually saw them. Three of the beasts casually strolled into view, arm-in-arm with each other, laughing as though it was simply accident that they'd walked into the aisle where the human stood. Michael could feel their eyes on him though, no matter how hard they tried to disguise their glances and he readied himself, allowing the three to stop and arrange themselves in a casual semi-circle around him. He smiled pleasantly at them and they grinned back, one of them with the tips of his fangs gleaming over his front lip.

"Did one of the humans from the dinner party get lost?" One of the beasts asked, directing the question towards Michael. A condescending smirk was plastered to the vampire's face and he felt great satisfaction in knowing he'd soon wipe it away for good.

"As a matter of fact, I am turned around." The human stated sheepishly, forcing himself into mimicking their casual tone and acting as though he wasn't really used to holding the sword. He made himself appear awkward, trying to play the part of the hulking giant that didn't know how to use his strength. "Could you tell me how to get back to the guest quarters or find a servant that could show me back?"

The vampire on his left twitched and he almost reacted, instincts certain the monster was going to attack- but the beast was only laughing quietly to itself and Michael tried to play off the sudden tension that thrummed through his body.

"What do you think guys? Shall we help the little lost lamb?" The female asked her companions and they made a show of shrugging at her, while surreptitiously sidling closer to the 'cornered' human. Just a little closer…

One of them crossed into Michael's space and his blade was moving, humming through the air to slice the beast's neck and free its head from its body. The regenerator maintained his pleasant grin even as the head rolled to the ground, sightless eyes staring up at the other beasts before it dissolved into a shower of ash.

"What-" The female's eyes had gone red and she looked at Michael in rage, baring her fangs in a sick grin. "You piece of human shit! I'll drain you dry!"

Like he hadn't heard that threat before.

With a snarl, the woman sprang and he moved smoothly to position his sword at her heart. She'd impale herself without any effort on his part- until, out of the corner of his eye he saw the other male vampire moving as well. He'd realized his companion was doomed and reacted to try and save her, meaning to slam into the human and move the sword. Michael reacted on instinct, throwing up an arm to stop the vampire from interfering with the woman's death.

But something tugged the beast away before he even touched the regenerator and the vampire went flying into the wall of bookshelves with an almighty thud. The woman too was snatched from her course with death and the Italian reacted, trying to figure out what this new force interfering was. He almost wanted to growl in frustration; he'd finally been able to let off some steam.

**"What did I say about attacking my guests?" **

Michael recognized the deep voice and he supposed the female vampire did too, panicked as she looked from her position on the ground. A fine leather shoe rested on her head, keeping her pinned to the floor as the vampire king surveyed his guest for wounds, expression as calm as his voice was angry.

"But sire-!" A grinding noise sounded as Alucard pressed down harder on her head, eliciting squeals of pain. "H-He killed Mattie!" The monarch glanced at the pile of ash on the ground and looked to Michael, an eyebrow raised.

"He attacked me first," Was the only explanation the human gave, crossing his arms like a petulant child. He didn't have to answer for killing vampires to this beast- besides, it wasn't his fault the king couldn't seem to control his subjects. 'Protection' his ass.

Shadow raced from the king's body to snatch up the male vampire who had been tossed into the wall and they dragged him back to their master, stringing him up by an ankle so the No-Life King could stare into his face. The situation would have been comical, if Michael hadn't been in the presence of the most powerful vampire to walk the Earth. He leaned back against the bookshelves, feigning comfort with the company.

"Disgusting." The king spat the word in the face of the vampire he held, eyes flashing red. Seemingly without a thought, the shadows reached for the male vampire's limbs and pulled, turning him into five separate pieces. The king took off his head and tossed it into the pool of black at his feet, which swallowed up the ash off the newly dead vampire. Convenient.

Stepping forward- and consequently, stepping completely onto the head of the female vampire and cracking her skull open- Alucard bowed slightly to the regenerator.

"Please accept my apology for these children. I'll call for someone to take to you back to your room."

Michael grunted, all the noise he trusted himself to make. Every cell in his body screamed for him to plant his sword in the king's heart- although he knew that wouldn't do anything but make the monarch angry.

With a vaguely mocking smile, the king moved away and down the bookshelves, presumably to find a servant to guide Michael. He was left staring at the female's remains, which strangely hadn't dissolved into ash yet. She must still have been alive- the regenerator crouched down curiously and inspected her crushed skull. It appeared none of the fragments had penetrated the soft grey matter of her brain, a miracle considering the force with which the king had punished her.

The regenerator swiped his sword down through the beast's neck to put it out of its misery and felt cheated of the thrill of battle as he watched the body quietly turn to dust. He hadn't needed the King's help and couldn't understand why he'd interfered, if he was just going to kill the monsters anyway. Why not let Michael take care of it, and step in afterwards?

Nothing in this fucking castle made sense.

A noise at the end of the row intruded upon the human's senses and he spun with his sword in hand, only to encounter the same maid as always, waiting at the end of the row. Her eyes bugged out at the sight of the weapon and the small pile of ash and it took her a moment to find her voice enough to ask him to follow her. The regenerator did so without a complaint, stalking by the remains silently.

His eyes caught fresh puncture wounds on the maid's neck and he fought the urge to be sick.

xXxXxXx

A.N: Apologies for how long this took. I'm not great at sticking to a schedule. Next will be the first part of the ball. Thanks for reading!


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